Dancing in the Dark
by ThePandorica
Summary: “It’s a hairpin, Poppy. What is so special about a hairpin?” - Written for several challenges at the HPFC Forum. Tom Jr./Hermione, AU.


**A/N:** This was written for the; Picture Prompt Challenge, Fragment Challenge and was a one-shot request from Schermionie - all at the HPFC forum. **Hermione is in Tom's year, just to make that point clear!** I rather like the Hermione/Tom Jr. pairing and here is the picture link that was my prompt and the Fragment was 'date'; http://images(dot)elfwood(dot)com/art/g/o/goldseven/c_masquerade_fin(dot)jpg.

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A mass of colour, sights, sounds and smells filled her senses. Masked faces flashed in front of her one moment, and then disappeared the next, swirling away into the mass of moving bodies. Then suddenly, she too, was swept away into the carousel of colour and sound. Claustrophobia threatened to set in, and soon she found herself gasping for air. She had to get out. Stumbling blindly, she threw her hands out and tears streamed down her face. Her dress caught on objects and her hair was now in a tangled cascade around her shoulders. Yet, her mask remained stuck to her face, and as she looked around, other masked faces smiled knowingly at her; a manic grin, frozen onto their lifeless faces.

Hermione screamed.

--

"Finally you're awake…"

A voice muttered above her, and Hermione tried to focus on it. Blearily, she opened her eyes. Tangible images from her dream flitted through her brain and she swallowed. Her heart was still racing underneath her nightdress, the cotton material damp with sweat. She sat up, slowly and hesitantly at first, the weight of the dream still resting heavily on her mind. ...Why had it felt so, _real?_

Suddenly, the same voice snapped through her reverie and she focused more on the face in front of her. As her vision slowly de-blurred, Hermione saw a familiar face staring back at her. It was Minerva McGonagall, obviously. ..Only she could look disapproving, when somebody was just waking up.

"Are you alright Hermione? You gave Poppy and I quite a scare..."

Puzzled, she slid out of bed, shivering slightly as the cold air of the dormitory hit her, and straightened up.

"Yes, I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

There was a pause, as she saw Poppy glance anxiously at her friend.

"Well," Minerva began, "you were screaming in your sleep. And tossing and turning an awful lot too. Did you have a bad dream?"

Hermione was in the process of getting dressed when she stopped, caught unaware by the question. She faltered and then tried to hide her expression of guilty surprise.

"N- ... I mean, no Minnie. I'm fine, really." She said nervously, as she caught her friend's disbelieving eye. Instantly, Hermione felt the odd need to smile reassuringly, yet she held back. Somehow, she didn't think that this would help her much. After all, McGonagall was no fool.

There was another pause, and this time it was icy. Quickly, Poppy spoke.

"Okay, Hermione. Minnie and I were just concerned, you know. ...After all," she hesitated, suddenly, looking guilty when Minerva cut in, looking at her directly.

"You're not worrying are you? About going to the ball with Tom Riddle, I mean?"

Hermione bit her lip. Of all people, it had to be Minerva McGonagall who had to ask her the most well avoided question, right before the dance.

And yet, now that the 'question' had been finally brought into the light, she had to question her motives too. ...Just what the hell had she been thinking, when she had accepted his proposal?

"Well, it's too late to back out now isn't it? Besides, somebody needs to teach that boy manners."

Minerva smirked.

"And it just had to be you, Hermione? Most of us see Riddle as an enigma, albeit a handsome one. Yet, he is one that not many want to solve."

At this, Hermione couldn't help but smile shakily.

"Yeah... But I'm not 'most' girls, am I?"

Minerva paused slightly, mulling this statement over.

"True to that, Hermione. You're not..."

Hermione smiled, as she continued;

"...But just be careful tonight, okay? Remember, it starts at eight."

Hermione nodded.

"I'll try, and hey, since when am I known to be late?"

---

_7 :35pm_

_-_

Hermione Granger was panicking.

She was nowhere near ready, and the ball was due to start in twenty-five minutes. Not only that, but she had arranged to meet her date at the entrance of the Great Hall, at five minutes to. Merlin only knew why she had accepted to go with Tom Riddle of all people. ...He practically radiated punctuality.

....Yes, she was officially screwed. With a capital S.

Not that you paid much attention to capitalisation, when you were dashing around the room with your hair on fire. Quite literally with your hair on fire. If Hermione had learnt one thing that evening, it was never to trust Poppy Pomfrey with curling your hair with her wand. Ever.

--

"What the -?! _Merlin_, Poppy!" yelled Hermione, running around the dormitory trying to find her wand, as the ends of her hair set alight in a small ball of red and yellow flame.

Eyes wide, Poppy quickly grabbed her wand, and was about to extinguish the flame when another voice interrupted;

"Aguamenti."

Clutching onto the bed frame, Hermione let out a small sigh as she felt the water from the charm, run slowly down her back and soak into the towel that was wrapped around her middle.

"Thank you, Minn. You know, I –"turning around, she stopped suddenly as she saw the expression on her friends face. It was one of pure and undeniable shock, and somehow Hermione didn't think that it was because her hair had just been on fire.

"Um, is everything okay?" she said, cautiously as she waved a hand in front of her face.

Seemingly to snap back to attention, Minerva let out a small cough and handed Hermione an envelope with her name written on the front of it. As soon as she saw it, Hermione nearly dropped it onto the floor. She knew that writing...

"Tom Riddle wanted me to give you this."

Sitting on the bed, Hermione opened the envelope with slightly shaking fingers. Out from it, fell a decorative flower of sorts, and Poppy gasped. Bending down, she picked it up and handed it back to Hermione, her eyes wide and questioning at the object in front of her.

"T-that's beautiful. However did Riddle get his hands on that?"

Hermione frowned at the flower. To be quite frank, she was baffled by this gift.

"What is it?" she asked, but Minerva just hurriedly gestured to unopened letter in her hand. Obediently, she unfolded the parchment and began to read.

_Miss Granger,_

_Enclosed is a flower. I have been told, by the person I bought it from, that it was a hairpin of sorts. I would be most grateful if you could wear it for tonight. _

_Sincerely, _

_Tom Riddle. _

She closed the letter slowly, and stared at the hairpin that was now sitting on her lap. It was made of glass, crafted so carefully that if she touched it, Hermione felt sure that it would break. It was coloured in a pale lilac colour that looked so close to being clear, she wondered whether it was a colour at all.

Brow furrowed, she looked up into the expectant gaze of Poppy.

"It's a hairpin, Poppy. What is so special about a hairpin?" she said, with a touch of disdain as she glanced at said object.

Poppy on the other hand, looked at the pin with such reverence, Hermione thought that the girl was about to get on her knees and pray to the god-dammed thing.

"It's not just _any_ hairpin, Hermione. This is a charmed hairpin and a bloody difficult pin to find at that."

Hermione raised one eyebrow, and was about to ask why a simple charmed hairpin was so difficult to find, when Poppy continued.

"As the wizard is making this, he charms the glass. This is so it reflects the emotion of the wearer, but it's not just any kind of emotion the creator wishes to monitor. This particular pin reflects the emotion that is the hardest to capture."

There was a pause, as what Poppy was saying, finally dawned on her and her mouth fell open in shock.

"Love." She whispered, as if saying the word any louder would break the effect.

Tom Riddle had given her a pin that reflected love. Tom _Riddle._ The boy that many thought would never admit to such poignant emotions as such. Still staring at the pin, Hermione found that she couldn't quite form the words to express just what this gift meant, when Minerva cut in.

"Wear it Hermione. For Merlin's sake, wear it, because I think that tonight may be the night, that you change Tom Riddle for good."

"I know..." she said, turning it slowly, over and over in her hand. Every so often, the glass hit the light and the flower looked breathtakingly beautiful.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione, with shaking fingers, slid the clasp into her hair. Now, it hung in a cascade of chocolate brown waves, all kept strategically in place by this one pin. She stood up, and turned a full 360, to let Poppy and Minerva see it. They nodded approvingly and she smiled nervously, in response.

"Now get dressed Hermione. We all know that Riddle doesn't do lateness..." said Minerva, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

--

_7:55pm_

-

It was finally time. Clad in a crimson silk dress, akin with a dark blue bodice underneath and flat black shoes, Hermione looked ready. She didn't feel like it, however. Her peacock feathered mask hovered in front of her face, courtesy of a charm from Minerva and her hair was held strategically together by Tom's pin.

Inhaling deeply, Hermione proceeded down the steps toward the Great Hall, with Poppy and Minerva in tow. She bit her lip and smiled shakily behind the mask, before whispering to Minerva behind her.

"Remind me again, Minnie. Why are we having this ball?"

Behind her, she heard Minerva snort and reply.

"Because the Headmaster thought that it would be an ideal occasion to relax after our N.E.W.T.S."

Again, Hermione let out a strained smile, as she whispered back to her friend.

"You call _this_ relaxing? I'd rather be flying a broomstick right now." She said, chewing her lip in anxiety.

She stopped and looked around. Other couples were milling around the entrance, greeting and hugging one another. Yet, she could not see her date anywhere. Panic slowly started to creep at the edges of her brain and again, she scanned the area in front of her. Checking the clock above the hall entrance, she saw that it was five to eight; the time that Tom had said he would meet her. Yet, he was not here. … Tom Riddle, out of all people Hermione knew at Hogwarts, did not _do_ late. Secretly, she suspected that that particular word was not even in his vocabulary.

She was about to take a step forward, into the milling crowd of people when she felt a hand rest on the small of her back. She flinched instinctively, before turning to face...

"Tom!" she exclaimed breathlessly, her eyes wide behind her mask.

He nodded his head and a small smirk twitched his lips into an upwards curve.

"Hermione."

There was a slight pause, in which neither said anything. They were now standing alone, as Minerva and Poppy had both hastily walked down the steps to find their dates.

"So, shall we go?" He said, breaking the silence and offering his arm to her.

Silently, she accepted and placed one hand lightly on his arm. As they swept through the crowd, Hermione saw people stop to look at them, the look of surprise on their face was evident from even behind their masks. Inwardly, she cringed yet she had to keep walking. Of course, she had known as soon as she had accepted Tom's proposal that she was going to be noticed. She just hadn't thought that it would have been this _obvious_.

When he had asked her in the Library, she hadn't really given his motives much thought. They were friends. They studied together until late at night and sometimes till the early hours of the morning. Tonight, the two of them were here as friends, weren't they? But of course, nobody except herself and Tom knew about their friendship or how genial it was. Of course they were going to _stare_...

She quickly looked up at her date. He seemed unaffected by the stares and it was as though he hadn't noticed them at all. Unlike her, he was wearing plain clothes. His mask was an inky black colour and his robes were black too, verging on the side of dark grey when the light hit it. He looked…handsome, she supposed. Yet it was not overly so and Hermione noticed that he wore nothing so decadent that it screamed 'look at me!' Although, she knew that Tom didn't need any fancy piece of cloth to stand out. It just came naturally.

"Do you find something amusing, Hermione?"

Tom's voice cut through her reverie, making her hastily snap back to attention to meet his masked gaze.

"No, not really Tom. Why, do you?"

He simply smirked and looked on ahead.

"No Hermione. I was just simply intrigued as to why you were smiling at me…"

He left the question hanging in the air, making Hermione wince inwardly. She hadn't really been staring at him, had she?

"Was I? Oh, I didn't realise. Well I didn't know that there was anything wrong with smiling."

Drawing her onto the main floor, through the throng of students that were clustered around the edges, Tom simply raised one eyebrow in response.

Now, Hermione glanced around the room. Only she, Tom, Minerva and her date were on the floor, ready to start the first dance. Yet, why had the music not started, y-?

Suddenly before she had time to complete the question, it was swiftly answered as the music began and Tom expertly slid his hand around her waist, waltzing to the music as he did so. Alarmed, Hermione quickly tried to mirror Tom's steps before he whispered into her ear.

"Relax. I'm leading, anyway."

Trying to take heed of his words, she nodded. With her hand placed precariously on his shoulder and his resting lightly, almost too lightly, on her waist did she then only allow her mind to wander. Dancing had never really been her forte, and especially when you were dancing in front of a lot of people. Yet, Tom was the Head Boy and as the rules went, the Head Boy and the Head Girl had to have the first dance with the dates of their choice. …Although, she supposed that she hadn't really thought of that minor hiccup before seeing as she had other, more pressing things on her mind at the moment. …Like trying, and failing presently, to get away from the young man whom she was dancing with.

However, sooner than she had anticipated the waltz came to an end and the two couples stopped. Tom instantly dropped her hand and nodded politely to her. There was hardly any emotion on his face, and even though it was covered by a mask; Hermione felt any icy chill descend on her.

"Excuse me, Tom. I need to get a drink…"she began, when he offered his arm again cutting her off.

"Then let me escort you?"

The comment was perfectly causal and innocent to the causal observer and to anybody who may have been listening in. Hermione however, knew the hidden meaning behind it and could not help but sense danger and a small, thinly veiled threat behind his words.

However, she took his arm. Against her better judgement, she took it. As soon as she did so, Tom set off at a fast and urgent pace, across the other side of the hall – far away from any student and especially nowhere near the drinks table. As they walked another piece of music had started to play, and soon most students had flocked to the floor to dance. His timing was perfect. Quietly, he led her to a small clearing outside. Near to the door so that the disappearance of the Head Boy was not too conspicuous, yet a good way away so that nobody outside would be able to hear what was about to be said…

It was dark outside. The moon in its huge orb hung in the sky, shedding an eerie and pale light upon the young couple. No stars twinkled in the night sky.

"Tom, please can't we go back inside?" pleaded Hermione nervously as she took her mask off, not wanting to hear what she knew he was about to say.

Yet, with a swift movement of his hand he cut her off, rendering her silent.

"Do you know why I gave you that pin, Hermione?" he asked, turning to face her, his face now bare to the moonlight without the presence of his mask.

She stood there, dumbfounded by his question. Now, Hermione noticed that there was something not quite right. He was acting differently, to how he did usually and there was something in his demeanour that seemed somewhat distant and inhuman.

Rolling his eyes, he asked the question again. However this time, she tried to answer it, controlling the nervous tint in her voice as much as she could.

"No, I don't Tom. But…Poppy told me that the pin represented l-love?"

He sneered and let out a short laugh, lifting his head to the sky, that when the moonlight caught his face, his angelic features looked ethereal.

"Love?" he spat the word out bitterly, "My dear Hermione, that air-headed friend of yours has obviously been reading too many romance novels. This pin I asked you to wear does not reflect that petty emotion at all."

Hermione gulped nervously, her heart sinking and backed away slightly.

"Then what -?" she began, before he cut in again.

"It represents loyalty, Hermione. Loyalty toward me, namely." He paused, and ran his hand through his hair, messing it up slightly. "I thought _you_ of all people, would have known that?"

As Tom took another step toward her, Hermione found herself taking another step back until she felt the cold surface of the stone connect with her back. Then as quick as lightning, he reached behind her and tugged the pin out of her hair. She felt a sharp pain as he did so, her hair now loosened around her shoulders.

Now, she had nowhere to go. Suddenly, his voice sounded above her and a jolt of electricity ran through her. The kind of electricity that shocks and paralyses.

"Hermione, look at me."

The words held such a subtle and yet infinite power to them, Hermione could not help but concede. As she looked up, she quickly found herself lost in a pair of cold, grey eyes. Like clouds before a storm…

"What is it that you want, Tom?" she said, although her voice came out as a whisper. One so fragile and timid, that it didn't seem to be coming from the mouth of a strong and capable witch.

He stared at her, his eyes boring into hers as he now placed his hands either side of her on the stone wall.

"You know what I want, Hermione. I do not have time for petty games."

There was a pause, as Hermione swallowed and tried to draw herself up to her fullest height. Even so, she was still dwarfed by Tom's ominous presence as he continued to stare intensely at her.

"Will you join me?"

The words he spoke held such resonance that they reverberated around Hermione's mind. Then, in one sharp and violent movement he rolled up the sleeve of his left arm and there, inked onto his pale skin, was a tattoo. As she saw it, Hermione's face became deathly pale, yet still she forced herself to meet his gaze.

"Tom, why are you asking me this? I- _we_ are friends. I don't want to-"she faltered and tore her gaze from his. The next few words she knew she had to utter, yet something inside her couldn't bring her to say it. Not here, not now…

"Kiss the mark, Hermione. That is all I need. You do not have to speak…Show me that you are loyal. I know that you are, Hermione. " he whispered in her ear temptingly, tauntingly.

It was then that something inside of her broke, and Hermione knew that it was now or never…

"Tom, what you ask of me…I cannot do." She paused, and again raised her eyes to meet his stony gaze, "…and I am not sorry for it."

As soon as those words had been uttered, the tension between them broke. Yet, Tom did not draw away. Instead, he rolled down his sleeve and placed both hands on her shoulders, his face now completely expressionless. Hermione wasn't sure which Tom terrified her more.

"You are sure about this?" he spoke suddenly, whispering the question harshly.

Hermione flinched.

"Yes Tom, I am."

Tom took his hands off her shoulders, moving them down by his sides, and it made him stand taller than Hermione had ever seen him. He seemed to glow with some sort of hidden and dark power.

"All you need to do is kiss the Mark, Hermione. As a symbol of our friendship and _our_ loyalty-"

He paused, letting the words sink in. His hand went back to his sleeve again, as he tugged at it impatiently as he continued.

"Do you doubt that my words are genuine? I assure you, Hermione, that the words I speak now are the most heart-felt and meaningful than anything else I have said to you."

Now, he said these words softly and as she slowly looked into his eyes, Hermione was sure that she almost saw a flash of remorse fill them. Yet, despite his heartfelt words she shook her head slowly.

"This isn't about _us_ Tom. It never will be about _us_." She whispered, smiling sadly at him.

"I assure you Hermione..."

She interrupted again, holding up her hand.

"I was never one for your soft and persuasive words Tom, no matter how alluring or inviting. I thought that _you_ of all people would have known that?" she said, echoing his previously spoken words with a hint of disdain.

She lowered her hand and turned to go back inside, when Tom grabbed it roughly. His eyes flashed menacingly as he spoke, his words laced with a hidden and possessive anger.

"You cannot win this easily Hermione. I swear to you now, you _will_ come to regret what you have said to me tonight..."

Roughly, he wrenched his hand from hers and turned back to go inside. However, before he did so he stopped and held out his arm, motioning for her to take it. After all, Tom was always one to keep up appearances.

Hermione paused, glancing at his offered arm and shook her head slowly. She wasn't going to pander to his wish of keeping up appearances. For the rest of tonight, she knew that Tom would go back inside and pretend that this escapade outside had never even happened whether or not she took his arm.

"Good evening, Tom." She said, without a backward glance as she made her way back inside.

She knew that in her heart of hearts that her decision had been the right one. Yet, despite her fear, she could not help but feel sorrow for the young man who now stood alone, and who would do so now until the rest of his days.

---

**Review? **


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